Your Name on My Heart
by whitedandelions
Summary: Bearing the Dark Lord's soul mark on his chest certainly isn't easy when his family is firmly on the Light Side. HPLV SLASH. Set in the Past.
1. The First Meeting

**Title**: Your Name on My Heart  
><strong>Rating<strong>: T, may go up later on  
><strong>Pairing<strong>: Harry x Voldemort  
><strong>Summary<strong>: Bearing the Dark Lord's soul mark on his chest certainly isn't easy when his family is firmly on the Light Side. HarryxVoldemort SLASH. Set in the Past.  
><strong>Author's Note<strong>: Completely AU! Wanted to do a spin on the neglected!Harry + Harry as student and Voldy as DADA professor because I read the Translation of Through your black hair, my hands and was completely smitten with it. And then I wanted to do SoulMate!Au so you can completely say this story is written PURELY FOR MY OWN BENEFIT. Please do not flame/be too harsh on me, because while other people DO value constructive criticism I am not one of them, so please don't do it to me because it completely kills ALL of my inspiration. Of course, friendly advice is allowed but things like "why would you write something like this" is just utterly heartbreaking for my frail and fragile heart so please keep such mean words to yourself :( I don't even mind short reviews like update please or nice chapter because those two little words really do wonders to boost my inspiration. Anyway, thank you for reading and please enjoy! :)

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><p><strong>Chapter 1 - The First Meeting<strong>  
>By whitedandelions<p>

Harry was seven when _Tom Marvolo Riddle _appeared on top of his heart. It was etched in a deep dark black, the l's and d's interconnecting with their loops in cursive. It was utterly beautiful, and little Harry spent the better part of the night tracing over them with his pointer finger in front of the mirror.

He couldn't wait to tell his twin, James Potter, about his soul mark in the morning. James had gotten his soul mark when he was only five, and had crowed on about it for the better part of the two years. _Against All Odds_ featured prominently on his right shoulder, and James had taken to repeating the phrase whenever possible. Harry figured it was a beautiful phrase and that James had a wonderful soul mate that embodied those words.

His parents weren't so pleased when they saw his name. In fact, his mother had shrieked with _horror_ and not the joy that had accompanied her shriek when she had seen James' soul mark.

She had buried her face into her husband's chest, almost as if she couldn't bear to see the black markings on her son. Harry stood, dumbfounded, his little arms outstretched as if he could somehow comfort his mother.

His father's eyes were hard, and his body stern as he knelt in front of Harry. "Listen," he had said, his mouth drawn into a hard line, "You must never let anyone see your mark."

Harry nodded, still confused; he had learned this rule a long time ago when they had first lectured James on it. He knew he had to keep his soul mark hidden; soul marks were a private thing and bad things happened when your soul mark was left bare to see.

His parents left almost immediately after the parting words, grabbing their cloaks and kissing James good-bye on the forehead before departing with a loud crack.

It wasn't long before things changed. Harry tried not to blame the changes on himself; it wasn't his fault that his parents didn't like his soul mark and subsequently didn't like _him_ as much. He had used to be the favorite of the two brothers; with James' rowdiness and tendency to cause trouble, it wasn't difficult to like Harry better. But suddenly, his parents had started to shower all their affection on James and seemed to like to pretend that Harry didn't exist. They didn't ignore him, per se; they still hired expensive tutors for him and tried to teach him magic to the best of their ability. But they didn't give him the same warm affection they had used to, and Harry didn't understand why.

Harry tried his best not to mind; he spent the better part of his days in the library with the practice wand his mother and father had bought him. Magic came easy to him, and it always delighted him whenever he accomplished a spell on his first try.

It was a hot summer afternoon that Harry conquered his fears and looked up his soul mate.

It didn't take long to find Tom; Harry had first tackled the history books and had found him listed in the index of the History of Hogwarts. Harry had traced the name on the page for a minute with a quivering finger, his heart beating erratically in nervousness. He flipped the pages until he saw his soul mate's name, and read on until the lights in the sky had died.

There wasn't much on his soul mate. However, there were glowing accolades about how he was Head Boy during his studies at Hogwarts and one of the best professors of Defense against Dark Arts the school has ever had.

Harry hungered to know more, especially since his parents had reacted so unfavorably when they had heard his name.

He devoured the words within a few minutes, and was left sorely disappointed.

Still, it was a lot to digest. His soul mate was obviously much older than him. However, age was no matter to soul mates, so Harry tried his best not to let that fact bother him. And his soul bound was obviously very skilled in magic, something that had thankfully passed onto Harry.

He found a book on soul mates next, finishing it in a couple of hours. Soul mates were destined to share the same proficiency of magic, which made sense considering it was magic that had destined them to be together in the first place. The marking was known to be obscure; it was only special cases that one soul mate was given the full name of the other. Harry worried quite a bit over the fact he had been given his soul mate's whole name; he suspected that they were destined to have quite the harsh fate in the future if this part was made so easy for them.

The most gruesome part was the line that read if a soul mate ever turned a wand on his bonded, the soul mate would suffer a fatality. To little Harry, who hadn't known violence or death yet, the sentence was chilling. To think that someone would _ever_ reject their soul mate was something that Harry didn't want to comprehend.

He wondered what mark Tom Riddle had, what words could possibly encompass who _Harry_ was.

His dreams that night consisted of no one but Tom.

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><p>Tom Riddle became a saint in Harry's eyes. Whenever things got tough, Harry would turn his dreams inward, hoping that one day his intended would save him from the harsh looks and environment that housed his family. He wondered constantly what kind of man Tom Riddle was, and searched desperately for any kinds of information he could find on the man.<p>

He was eight when he finally got his answer. Charlus Potter, his uncle and a man that was more of a father than his real one, had finally told him the truth one cold winter night. They were in front of the fireplace and Harry had just withstood a scolding from his mother for using too explosive spells. It wasn't Harry's fault that _Bombarda_ reacted so well with his magic. He had blasted the tree from its roots, and the wood had turned into ashes a second later, melting the snow it had fallen on.

Charlus had praised him after his mother had left, and then had continued on a vein that Harry hadn't expected.

His intended was aDark wizard. And not just _any_ Dark wizard, but the leader of the faction that his family was firmly against. It was no wonder his parents had reacted so horribly when they had learned his intended was Tom Riddle, and it suddenly became clear on why they favored James Potter so much more than him.

Harry couldn't stop the tears from rolling down his cheeks, and was shocked when Charlus pulled him into a hug. "Harry, being Dark isn't something that you should fear," he had said, gently. "My wife, Dorea, she's a Black, a family known for being Dark. She's Dark, but I'm still Light. Your parents are too narrow-minded to look past that, but you _can_ prove them wrong."

Harry kept those words close to him in heart the next couple of years, even though his mind was still whirling at the fact that his intended was _the_ Dark Lord. He had learned more about him from Charlus, and had been horrified at the amounts of Unforgivables the Dark Lord was known for using. Dark Magic was _scary_, and Harry was absolutely terrified that he would turn Dark despite his uncle's reassurances. After all, he was sharing magic with the Darkest Wizard of them all.

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><p>Things got worse. At age eleven, his parents did something that no pureblooded family should ever do; they designated James Potter as heir even though Harry was twelve minutes older. Harry had hid that night, tears falling down his cheeks and ears covered over his ears as the shouting from down below floated up into his bedroom.<p>

"You idiots," snarled Charlus Potter. "This was not supposed to be done."

"Please, Charlus," said Harry's mother, "think of your health. There's no reason to be so worked up about it."

"Not to...!" There was a pause, and then a loud sigh was heaved. After a long pause, Charlus continued in a significantly calmer voice. "Everyone will know that Harry Potter was deemed to be unworthy of being heir! Is that what you want for your son?"

"My son?" asked Harry's father, and Harry could imagine how his father's face was contorted into one of deep disgust because of how often it had been aimed at him lately. Harry shivered violently at his father's next words, a new onslaught of tears making its way down his face. "He's no son of mine! He's destined to be the Dark Lord's _mate!_"

"You don't _know_ that," argued a female voice, and Harry vaguely recognized it as Charlus' wife, Dorea Potter.

"He's marked with _Tom Marvolo Riddle," _spat out his mother. "The next Dark Lord."

"Yes, but that doesn't mean -"

"It means he's destined to be Dark," scorned his father, "and no son who is Dark is a son of mine."

"In fact, if it wasn't for Dumbledore, we probably would have disowned him already."

"I'll have you know," spoke a quiet, but no less deadly voice, "my family was also Dark."

There was a long pregnant pause before Harry's mother continued, "Well, yes, but you married Charlus."

"I am still a Black, even if my last name is now Potter," continued Dorea, her voice dripping with scorn.

"You can't be feeling sympathy for the boy," said Harry's father, incredulous. "We are a _Light_ family, we can't be off raising a Dark son. And besides that, knowing what we do, it hardly seems plausible for us to waste resources on a son leaning toward the Dark when we have one so firmly Light."

There was a long pause, only to be broken by his mother's stern voice. "That's enough of that, the heir naming ritual is already done and there's nothing left to be done. Let's get ready for the celebrations."

Harry ended the eavesdropping spell with a simple wave of his wand and was promptly startled by a sudden sound. He turned, blinking wet, glistening green eyes at the envelope that sat in front of him, a wry smile crossing his lips as he looked at the crisp parchment.

His Hogwarts letter had arrived at last.

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><p>Harry got his first glimpse of his soul bound in Diagon Alley. He was tall, handsome, and absolutely <em>stunning<em>. True to the pictures he had seen in the history books, Professor Tom Riddle possessed silky brown locks and piercing red eyes all set into a truly regal face. But beyond the expensive robes and the fit physique lay a haze of magic power that seemed to permeate the surroundings around him. It was simply intoxicating and Harry found himself in a daze as he got his first feel of his mate's magic.

Even though he knew that the man in front of him was a Dark Lord and certainly _dangerous_, Harry couldn't help himself. He _had_ to hear his mate speak.

Luckily his parents weren't paying much attention to him; they were too focused on buying James Potter the newest broom out, certain that their favorite son would be on the Quidditch team in no time. He was easily able to slip away from them, getting through the crowd fast enough to catch another glimpse of the Dark Lord entering Flourish and B;otts.

He was just following his soul mate down a corridor filled to the brim of books when he was suddenly ambushed by the very person he had been following.

Up close, Tom Riddle was even more stunning. Harry was close enough to see the stunning quality to those red eyes that seemed to entrance so many others, and close enough to inhale his scent. Harry was struck dumb by the way the man's magical power seemed to surround him, and he felt instantly inferior even though he knew magic had made them equal.

He stuttered and stammered out a series of words that he was sure didn't make sense, a heavy flush making his way to his cheeks. The Dark Lord looked indulgent of his actions, a sense of amusement in his expression. Harry only blushed even harder when he noticed; he must look a right sight next to the taller Lord when he was only eleven and reached up to the man's chest.

"The Potters' disgraced son, hm?" asked Tom Riddle, and Harry _shivered_ at the sound of it. It was every bit as delicious and wonderful as he thought it would be and despite the amount of absolute danger he was in, found himself not regretting his impulsive action. After all, he could now memorize the husky voice of his intended and imprint it into his memory forever.

"Have you come to regain your honor for your family?" continued the Professor when Harry made no move to reply. "You're many years too early to be a match for me."

"I," stammered out Harry, his mind searching frantically for a reason for why he had been following Tom. He half wanted to just lift his shirt and show the words printed on his chest; the words that had been a burden from the very moment they had appeared. He wanted to tell the Dark Lord that Harry was _his_ and that they were meant to be forever and ever, but ...

Harry couldn't betray his family like that. Even though he knew his mother and father were extremely disappointed in him, he couldn't help wanting to prove them wrong. That he was Light and not Dark, and he _could_ be the son that they had always wanted him to be. And besides his parents, he couldn't leave James behind like that.

James had pulled him aside before they had left on the shopping trip, his brown eyes fierce and determined as he spoke, "You can't turn Dark, Harry, you're my _twin_. You can't let _Him_ win. And forget Mom and Dad, you're Light, Harry, and I don't care what they say."

The warmth of his brother's hug stayed with him all throughout morning, even when the sting of his parents' rejection had gone down to his very core.

He couldn't...letting the Dark Lord know would ruin everything. And there was no guarantee that he was even the Dark Lord's soul mate; there had been instances of one sided loves, and with the way Harry's luck was going in the world...

"I wasn't following you," ended Harry, and immediately turned red at the sight of Tom Riddle's delicately raised eyebrow.

"You weren't," said the Dark Lord flatly, and although Harry squirmed under his heavy gaze, Tom Riddle's lips were suddenly upturned. "I am curious, though, why _do_ your parents think you'll turn Dark?"

Harry frantically strengthened his barriers, thanking to the Heavens that any mentions of soul marks and soul mates were unseeable by Legilimency. How could he forget that he wasn't dealing with a regular Hogwarts Professor and dealing with a very intelligent and intrigued Dark Lord. "That's - you're not allowed to use Legilimency on a minor!"

"And who do you think they'll believe?" asked Tom Riddle, and this time his lips were definitely in a smile, even though it looked more predatory than happy. "The esteemed Professor of Hogwarts or the young Potter who couldn't even muster up enough magic to be considered as heir?"

In that moment, Harry _hated_ his soul mate.

"You're a right bastard," he snarled.

"Tsk, tsk," mocked the Dark Lord, a slight feral grin on his face, "Young children like you shouldn't be using such language."

He was suddenly grateful that he hadn't lifted his shirt, that Tom Riddle had no idea that his name was currently etched onto his skin. He clenched his hand into a tight fist, wanting to use magic to lash out at the arrogant Lord, but knowing that it would be useless against his soul mate.

"Answer the question, little Potter. I am growing impatient."

He knew he shouldn't; he didn't want the Dark Lord to know how truly proficient he was in magic or else he would know that Harry shared his magic. He wanted to stay hidden, but at the same time, he really didn't know how to answer and he wouldn't put it past the Dark Lord to kidnap him. After all, he wasn't even sure if his family would care enough to search for him even if he _did_ go missing. And he could always blame it on accidental magic later.

When he opened his eyes again, he was back in the Quidditch shop. Luckily, no one had noticed him, not even the shopkeeper who was busy interacting with a large family.

Harry breathed a sigh of relief, hoping that the Dark Lord would forget about the encounter within a couple of days. It didn't take him long to find his family again, and he was grateful that James had finally gotten his broom. James gave him a funny look, probably having noticed his disappearance, and then locked arms with Harry, silently forbidding any more running off. Harry didn't mind, he certainly wasn't planning to confront the Dark Lord one on one anymore. After all, he wasn't sure he would live to see the end of the day if he was stuck in such a bad situation anymore.

But...it was worth it, because his intended was utterly beautiful. He would never forget those red eyes as long as he lived.

Back in Flourish and Blotts, one Tom Riddle stood with his lips turned upward into a lazy smirk. "Green eyes, hm?" he murmured, and lost in thought, departed to finish preparing for the now more interesting school year.

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><p>AN: sorry it's so short! I just want to see if people like it/test out the fandom since this is my first time writing for Harry Potter/Harry x Voldemort (even though I have been reading these type of fanfiction for like 5 years already haha). Pretty please review, fav, and alert, because each new notification/email really do wonders for my inspiration. Next chapter will be posted on Friday, maybe, depending on if my classes allow/the fandom isn't mean XDD.


	2. First Year Part I

Author's Note: I'm literally dying trying to keep up with actual history of James Potter's time (I CAN'T EVEN FIGURE OUT HIS PARENTS' NAMES?) Like I want Narcissa Black and Lucius to be only two years older than Harry, but when James Potter is a first year, Narcissa is a fifth year? So like...Disclaimer: I am done trying to keep up with actual history and students might have different backgrounds and I may actually have to make up a few characters. Also, unless reviewers will be very angry with me I am not including Peter Pettigrew in my story since I have other plans for Sirius Black and James Potter and don't want the Marauders to be formed this time around and that character is disgusting D:

Side Note: THANK YOU SO MUCH WONDERFUL PEOPLE FOR REVIEWING! You guys make me want to write more and more and after reading all your lovely reviews I literally started writing for three hours straight and thus this was born. So thank you lovely, lovely people!

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><p><strong>Chapter 2<strong>: First Year Part I  
>by whitedandelions<p>

It didn't take long to find Harry's wand. Soul bounds always shared similar wands, and with Harry's soul bound being the Dark Lord, Ollivander only had to think for a second before pulling out a holly wand with a phoenix feather as its core. "A powerful wand for a powerful wizard," he had murmured, almost as if to himself after Harry had handed him the required payment.

Harry would have never had the courage to speak up if his parents were still around. They somehow had the ability to make him feel like an idiot for every word he spoke, so he had started to not say a thing whenever he was in their presence. But his parents didn't want to be there when Ollivander learned just who he was soul bound to and had ushered him off to the wand shop alone. Harry didn't mind; he had already faced down the Dark Lord earlier in the trip and no one else could be as dangerous as him. "Do you think it'll be difficult, sir?"

Ollivander startled, almost as if he had forgotten that Harry was still there. The galleons in his hand clattered noisily onto the floor as they fell, rolling a few feet before they stopped. Harry watched them for a while before training his emerald eyes back onto Ollivander. "Difficult, you ask? It will be so, I'm afraid. I trust you know by now the true nature of your Intended."

"The Dark Lord," Harry answered, sullenly. His intended _was_ a right bastard and it definitely was not going to be an easy match. He could hardly imagine the Dark Lord falling into his arms as soon as his soul mark was laid bare to see; he could instead imagine the Dark Lord sneering and rejecting him as soon as it became clear that Harry thought Tom Riddle was his soul mate.

"_A mere child on an equal level with me? You must be out of your mind_," he would say. Harry grimaced at the thought, and Ollivander patted him sympathetically on the arm.

"I can imagine how conflicted you must feel, young Potter. But don't despair, these things have a way of working out."

"Sir, you've seen a lot of soul matches, haven't you? Are there any instances in which soul mates _don't_ match?"

Ollivander nodded, pity shining clearly in his eyes. "It's not as uncommon as you would think, Mr. Potter."

Harry winced at the wandmaker's words, fear and despair running fast through his heart. He wasn't wrong then; he _should_ stick to his family and stay firmly away from the Dark Lord.

Ollivander caught his attention again by lightly placing a hand on his shoulder. "But I have a feeling that you two _are_ soul mates. You mustn't give up hope."

Harry thanked Ollivander for the wand and for the kind advice, almost fleeing the wand shop in hopes of finding somewhere to be alone.

He wasn't so lucky; his parents had finished shopping for the books and potion supplies, and it wasn't long before they were heading toward the pub to floo home.

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><p>Harry spent the rest of the summer getting acquainted with his wand. It was <em>loads<em> better than the practice wand he had been given because this one chose him. It was wonderful and he was able to cast spells that had continuously been out of reach for him. The most noticeable one that he enjoyed was the Bubble-head charm. It wasn't particularly hard, but the movements were tricky enough that he had been unable to do it with a wand that didn't particularly respond well to him.

He used it to explore the more dusty areas of the library that he had been scared to explore before. Even though they were a Light family, even they possessed some books that were Dark enough to be cursed. His parents probably would have removed them if they had remembered they were still in there, but fortunately his parents weren't the most well-versed of pure-bloods.

They were still taught their pure-blood manners, but compared to the Malfoy family, they held far less parties. They still went to the main events that the Malfoy family held, but considering Malfoys were not firmly on the side of the Light, his parents more often than not rejected the invitations. Instead, they were frequent visitors of the Longbottoms and the Weasleys, families that were so disgustingly Light they practically shone with it.

Harry didn't mind. He didn't mind Light Magic, and he _knew_ if he wanted to evade detection from the Dark Lord then he had to be an avid practitioner of Light magic. And if he _truly_ wanted to not let the Dark Lord have any ideas, then he had to play the part that his family had made for him. He had to be the son that was a bumbling idiot, the son that a pure blood family could not stomach making heir. It was going to be hard to rein in his magic and his talent, but he was used to scorn and ridicule from his parents, and consequently, most other people he had interacted with.

And his parents didn't expect much from him anymore.

It would be easier to accept their disappointment then their wrath that would descend upon him if he did better than James in school anyway.

With this mindset, as long as he did barely better than passing, then James Potter would definitely do better than him.

Harry didn't begrudge his twin for the life he had been given. In a way, James took on a set of burdens for him that he would never truly be able to know. Being a pure-blood heir called for a strict set of manners and Harry didn't envy James for the amount of pure-blood etiquette he had been forced to learn. And if Harry wanted to skiv off during an important party, then his parents didn't make a big fuss, _especially_ since none of their friends wanted to particularly meet Harry anyway.

Harry had a sinking idea that they all knew Harry was Tom's soul bound, and it was only their manners keeping them from treating him as if he had gone Dark already.

James was the only good thing in his life right now. James ignored their parents and continuously stayed the same good twin he had been even before the soul mark had appeared. Harry was eternally grateful that James hadn't turned his back on him; instead, James seemed to be on his side more than ever before. He had gotten into countless arguments with their parents about Harry's supposed Dark nature, and would still be getting into them if Harry hadn't told him to stop. It was sweet, what James had done, but his parents' mind wouldn't be swayed by him no matter how many arguments James would come up with. At least Harry would repay him by making James look amazing, well, at least compared to him. He knew James wouldn't like it; James hated it when others would look down on Harry because James knew that Harry was actually really amazing at magic. But Harry didn't mind the ridicule, and James would just have to get used to it.

He also found himself using the Bubble Head charm to explore the depths of the Lake that was behind their Manor. Just because James was the more athletic of them in his love for Quidditch that matched their father's didn't mean Harry didn't like to do some outdoors activities too. He _would_ enjoy Quidditch if he actually enjoyed other peoples' company, but every time James would draw him into Quidditch matches, the other pure blood heirs would awkwardly try to accept him on behalf of James. But swimming was a solitary exercise, and his parents couldn't find him when he was deep into the lakes' depths. He spent most of the summer learning spells that he could practice underwater and when James was out with the other pure-bloods, he spent it deep underwater, in a place where no one could find him.

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><p>The day they went to Hogwarts was also the day that James Potter met Sirius Black and promptly became best friends. They rode in the same carriage on the Hogwarts Express, and there, Harry was made to feel awkward as the two bonded over things that he held no interest in.<p>

The Sorting Hat broke out in song as soon as they made their entrance into the Great Hall, startling most of the first years enough to quiver in their steps. Harry watched the sorting hat with hooded eyes, his heart beating fast as he did his best to ignore the fact that his Intended was currently in his point of view. He knew what he was getting into when he decided to enroll in Hogwarts. That he would be able to see his Intended each and every day and know that he had to withhold the desire to shout out that they were meant to be. That with any mistake, the Dark Lord would find out that his name had branded Harry to be his, which was an outcome that Harry desperately wanted to avoid.

It wasn't long before the Sorting Hat was being placed on Harry's hat by a kind lady called Minerva McGonagall. Harry aimed a kind smile at her, before his eyes were dwarfed by the rim of Sorting Hat.

_Ah, the soul bound of our esteemed Professor, eh?_

Harry startled, and couldn't stop himself from turning to face where Tom Riddle was, even though he _knew_ internally that the hat's words wouldn't reach the Dark Lord. He aborted himself halfway through the motion, even though he knew he had probably already given himself away. _Please, don't tell him,_ he settled for pleading.

The sorting hat gave a pleasing hum, _You would do well in Slytherin, Harry Potter._

_I can't, please_! _My family...they would never understand if I'm sorted there. Please, I need to go into Gryffindor._

_You do not belong into Gryffindor. Out of all the houses, that house is not suited for you_.

The words stung, and Harry clenched his fists so tight that his fingernails left angry, red marks. _Why? Is it because I am destined to be Dark?_

_If you continue down this path, you will live a life trying to pretend you are someone you are not._

_Is that so bad, really? To pretend in order to get love? Sometimes, it is better to pretend than to be someone truly unlikeable._

_To think that, you are definitely a - _

_Wait!_

"SLYTHERIN!"

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><p>The rest of the Sorting passed with a blur. James was sorted into Gryffindor as expected and the rest of the other names hardly mattered to Harry. He sat through the last speech of the Headmaster, and when the Feast began, he couldn't even muster up the energy to eat. He simply buried his face in his hands, completely miserable. He couldn't believe that his had happened. His worst nightmare was coming true. He couldn't avoid the Dark Lord's attention if he was literally right under the Dark Lord's nose! And there was a reason there was no underperforming Slytherin, they were rumored to be tortured by their house if they received anything under an E. He couldn't very well continue his plan if he was Sorted into Slytherin.<p>

A hand landing on his shoulder startled him out of his maudlin thoughts and suddenly arms were being wrapped around his torso and he was being bodily lifted up out of his seat. Harry yelped and flailed, but James, the more athletic of the two, was used to Harry's antics and solidly pressed on.

"James!" protested Harry, but it fell on deaf ears as James continued to haul him out of the Great Hall and into a private alcove. He wasn't sure what to think, but fear gripped his heart as he realized that this time, his twin might be _really_ disappointed in him.

So he was completely startled when James simply poked him in the forehead, a grin on his face. "Cheer up, Harry! I saw you looking like the world had ended so I knew I had to come get you."

"I wasn't," he started to protest, but fell silent a second later as he realized he really _was_ feeling that way.

"Knew it," said James, crossing his arms and trying his best to look stern at Harry. "Were you thinking about Dark and Light again? I swear, you're the only eleven-year-old who thinks so hard about things like that. Sirius was sorted into Gryffindor and he isn't freaking out like you are. And his parents might actually _kill_ him for it, so you should stop being so dramatic."

"I wouldn't count our parents out," muttered Harry, and did his best to look contrite when James' expression turned into a glare. "Okay, okay, it's not _that_ bad. I mean our parents probably already expected I'll be in Slytherin and really, the only horrible thing is I can't actually pretend to do bad at classes to make Mum and Dad happy - " He trailed off when James' expression morphed into a murderous one, and mentally backtracked to see what he could have said to have set his twin off.

"Merlin, Harry! I always thought you were just nervous when you performed magic in front of my friends, but you ...you tosser! You've been messing up on purpose! You made me look like such an idiot; I swear, this is the last time I'm singing your praises to my friends!"

"You've been..." Harry paused, his eyes wide as he looked over at James, suddenly aware he had a lot more than he had thought to thank his twin for. "James, you didn't have to..."

"And you git, just because your spells are _slightly_ overpowered and you spend all your free time in our library doesn't mean you're so much better than me at magic! Don't you dare hold back or else...or else I'll tell Professor Riddle the truth and that is a _real_ threat, Harry, and why are you laughing at me?" James ended his rant with a pout, and then he was suddenly pouncing on Harry, using his strength to ruffle Harry's hair in the way he _knew_ Harry hated.

"I'm not laughing at you!" Harry got out between his dying chuckles. "It's just such a relief. I thought you would be angry and never talk to me again."

James shrugged, not even looking hurt at Harry's confession. "You're still my twin brother, Harry, even if you're a slimy Slytherin now. And you were under there a long time, Harry, I'm pretty sure you didn't want to be sent there."

"James," said Harry, touched by his brother's words, and was just about to pull James into a crushing hug when his twin continued.

"And the best part is that I don't have to share a room with your snoring anymore! I swear, sometimes I couldn't even fall asleep because you were so loud."

"I do _not_ snore!" he protested and at James' answering snort, launched himself at his twin in order to get his revenge.

* * *

><p>"Soul marks are interesting things," started out Professor Flitwick. "They can arrive at any time of your life but will be there forever; there is no known way of removing a soul mark once it is there. Soul marks are intensely private since they are the only link you will have to your Intended. The first charm we will be learning is a glamour; it is highly complicated but I hope you all will work hard on learning it. After all, it will be your best bet to keeping your soul mark hidden from view."<p>

Harry tried to pay attention, but the Professor's words were already common knowledge to him. He had learned the glamour only a few weeks after Tom's name had appeared on his chest and had mastered it only a day later. Desperation fueled his desire to learn, and he had gone on to one of the most complicated charms. It was fueled by a rune that he had carved onto a silver necklace and as such, could not be finited or removed even if the necklace went missing. It had taken him the better part of a few years to finish, but Harry was proud of his work. It was necessary, after all, when he was carrying the soul mark of a man that had more enemies than friends.

The charm they were learning now was only the beginning of a long series of increasingly complicated spells. He figured they would learn it over the school year, and those that had already gotten their soul marks would have to find another way to cover it up.

His green eyes landed on his twin, a slight smile on his face as he watched James practice the wand movements for the spell with a look of intense concentration. Harry had given another silver necklace to his younger twin, and James hadn't taken it off ever since he had gotten it. Sirius Black was practicing as well, and his face looked even more determined than James' face did. He was currently wearing his scarf so high up it looked uncomfortable. It was easy for Harry to tell that Sirius' soul mark was on his neck.

Harry wondered if he should try to hold back and pretend he didn't know the spell, but at James' warning look knew better than to even try. So when Professor Flitwick handed out the feathers, Harry waited until everyone had gotten their feathers before taking out his wand and casting the spell effortlessly. Professor Flitwick made an exclaimation, awarding ten points to Slytherin and praising Harry's spellwork.

Harry flushed, not used to praise from those older than him, but accepted the praise gratefully all the same. He returned to people-watching a second later, bored out of his mind as he watched his fellow first years practice diligently. One pretty redhead had one hand still clasped around her left wrist and she looked supremely uncomfortable as she watched the other first years practice the glamour.

"It says Forever," offered up another first year. Harry blinked, startled that someone who wasn't James was actually talking to him, and turned to look at the speaker. The young boy, a first year Slytherin, realized that Harry probably had no idea who he was and a wry smile appeared on his face. "Severus Prince." He held out a hand and Harry shook it, still puzzled on why the boy had offered up information so freely.

"Harry Potter," he responded. "How do you know?"

"She got hers during breakfast today. She had no clue what it was and showed me before I could tell her it was supposed to be private."

"Oh," said Harry, "a muggleborn then?"

Severus' face looked pained and then he heaved a soft sigh. "I don't even know who she is."

Harry recognized Severus' face of discomfort; Harry, as an introvert, could never understand how others could talk to people they didn't knew so freely and could tell that the redhead had started talking to Severus out of the blue, probably starting the poor boy enough that he was still feeling uncomfortable.

"But," continued Severus, still looking pained and unhappy, "it doesn't matter because..." he trailed off, looking lost and then a second later, was studying Harry's face carefully. "Your family is Light, right?"

Harry stiffened up, "I already know I'm not supposed to be in Slytherin."

"It isn't about that, though that _is_ strange. I was just wondering your stance on muggleborns."

"Why?" asked Harry, puzzled. It took him a few seconds, but at Severus' expression and the way he was holding his right wrist...

He leaned forward, placing one hand on Severus' left one. Severus looked panicked before he sighed, pulling up his sleeve and leaving his right wrist bare. _& Always _was printed onto his pale skin in black, and Harry's breath hitched at the sight of it.

Severus was pulling down his sleeve a second later, looking utterly miserable. "I gave you too many hints."

Harry shot the boy an apologetic look, "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have pressed."

"It's alright," said Severus, kindly, "I think some part of me wanted someone to know. I never would have imagined I would be soul bound to a _muggleborn_," he hissed lowly under his breath, and Harry, even as solitary and introverted as he was, couldn't help placing a comforting hand on Severus' shoulder.

"They're really not all that bad."

Severus shot Harry a look of disgust, and Harry couldn't help but to shake his head sadly at Severus' reactions. He felt sorry for the redhead, and wondered if maybe magic had actually made a mistake this time. He couldn't imagine Severus with her despite not knowing the girl at all; they were too different with Severus' pale and sour face and her vibrant, expressive one.

* * *

><p>Harry was so nervous the first Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson that he had dropped his textbook during the middle of class, startling everyone and bringing amused red eyes to his own. Harry flushed and had mumbled out an apology, and Tom Riddle thankfully did not say a word.<p>

But then, Tom Riddle _continued_ to ignore him. Harry knew he shouldn't be feeling so left out and so distraught over it; he should be rejoicing that the Dark Lord had deemed him unworthy.

But all Harry wanted was for Riddle to notice him. He did his best not to raise his hands whenever Professor Riddle asked a question even when he _knew_ the answer. Lily Evans, the muggleborn Severus was soul bound to, had the bad tendency to do that, and Harry knew it was only a matter of time before their professors got annoyed. She rambled, but her answers were generally correct and in the end, the Professors were forced to award her points for them. Harry only shared Charms and Potions with the Gryffindors, and he wondered what she was like during Riddle's class. He could hardly imagine his Intended being as patient as the other teachers.

Severus and Harry were starting to become fast friends, and although Harry hadn't shown Severus his own soul mark as a sign of good will, Severus didn't seem to mind. Severus had taken to watching Lily Evans with sharp eyes whenever they had a class with the Gryffindors, and had even started sighing whenever Lily rose her hand to the harsh whispers of the others in the class. Severus was absolutely horrified at the idea of being soul bound to a muggleborn and was still slowly coming to terms with it.

Harry was more amused at the whole thing than not; to him, Severus was making a big deal out of nothing. After all, Harry would gladly give up his magic to be soul bound to someone as innocent as a muggleborn. After all, the muggleborns' only sin was to be born to someone not pure of blood while his soul bound... his soul bound was _the_ Dark Lord, and there really was no excusing that.

Harry did his best in classes, casting his spells with a slight overpowering in hopes that his Intended would finally notice him. It was finally in their fourth class that Tom Riddle finally granted his wishes, asking Harry to stay after class.

"I must apologize," started out the Dark Lord after class had ended, freezing Harry into blinking terrified eyes up at the older man, who was still seated behind his mahogany desk. He was straightening out the papers from their class before, but his intense red eyes were still fixated on Harry.

"For what, sir?" Harry stammered out, his heart beating erratically.

"I assumed you weren't chosen as heir because you were lacking in magic. But your abrupt departure from before tells me otherwise."

"It was accidental magic, sir. I was - it just happened."

Riddle sighed, "Do not lie to me, Potter."

"You're not allowed to use Legilimency on students!"

Tom Riddle's predatory smirk was back, and he lifted an eyebrow as if to challenge Harry to say something more about his unauthorized use of Legilimency.

"You're a _bastard_," Harry grumbled, and flushed when Riddle actually _chuckled_. The sound made his insides feel funny, and brought his cheeks to a further red.

"Tell me, Potter, how far along are you in magic? Something tells me you aren't like most of the other first-years."

"Why don't you just read it out of my mind?" Harry muttered under his breath.

"Is that an invitation?" asked Riddle, a slow smile making its way across his face. The smile made Harry's brain short circuit, so he wasn't able to say anything until Riddle had already risen from his chair.

He was finally shaken out of his stupor when Riddle was standing across from him, stammering out a quick, "No!" and falling back from the taller Lord.

Riddle looked amused again, and stepped forward so that Harry's step back was nullified. "But it would make things so much easier, wouldn't it, Harry? And I promise it won't hurt," he said in a low voice.

"You're lying! And no means no," growled Harry, glaring hard at the hand that had been reaching toward his face.

"Then stop me," said Riddle, and suddenly the hand was making contact with his cheeks and his green eyes were meeting with deep intense red.

Harry reacted instantly with an overpowered wandless lumos, flashing the light with one second of an intense flare. Riddle was forced to blink, and that one second of contact was more than enough time for Harry to break the legilimency connection.

Harry felt the elation of getting one up on his Intended, and shot a triumphant glance at the Dark Lord. His stomach dropped as soon as he saw Riddle's expression, and he belatedly realized he had played right into his soul mate's trap.

The intense gleam of satisfaction resided in Riddle's red eyes, and his smile looked pleased. "Very interesting, Harry. I think that's all I need to know for today. I will see you every Tuesday at eight o'clock in my office."

"You can't just - " he started to protest, but Riddle's expression hardened, and he cut himself off with a small pout. "Do I have any choice here?" he finished in a resigned tone.

"You could refuse, but then I'll just have to assign a few detentions..."

"Bastard," Harry grumbled, and rich, deep laughter filled the room. Harry flushed; Riddle's laughter was doing strange things to his stomach and for some reason, he wanted to hear more of it.

"You're an impudent little brat, aren't you? No matter, I will work it out of you soon enough."

"I'll like to see you try," Harry muttered and when Riddle shot him a warning glance, knew he had pushed hard enough. He excused himself to another amused expression from the Professor and found himself in the hallway with flushed cheeks and an erratic heartbeat.

He had failed miserably at not catching the Dark Lord's attention, but for some reason, Harry really and utterly did not care.

* * *

><p>Author's Note: Well, I messed up here :P. I realized too far in that I had too many ideas for first year...so instead of time skip, I'll end up like finishing first year so that means MORE SCENES IN WHICH I HAVE ROMANTIC! TENSION WITH old Tom and underage Harry which makes me feel SO very uncomfortable :(. Also, I hate slow build fics...but here I am writing one haha. I wrote all three confession scenes already too D: sigh, all I want to do is have Voldemort and Harry together already. Anyway, do you guys want me to time skipcontinue writing each year? Also, I know I wrote in a lot of controversial stuff ish in this chapter with Lily and Severus paired together and changing Severus' past, so I hope you guys don't mind :( don't hesitate to let me know your thoughts! Also, Tom didn't actually perform Legilimency on Harry this time; he just read it on Harry's face and decided to tease him a little bit.

Thanks again for all the lovely reviews and favs and alerts. They really help me write and it's thanks to all you guys that this came out so fast. Look for another chapter next friday morning!

Severus' background: So, I wanted to do something a little different and I wanted to make Severus have a happier lifestyle because I didn't want to write a jaded abused Severus soooo since there are soul marks in this story...Eileen Prince married a Muggle because she didn't have a soul mark but it faded in like after severus was born and then Tobias Snape started to be a right bastard to Snape and her so she moved out and took Severus with her so they lived in the Prince Manor/lived a good life so Snape had no idea who lily was until Hogwarts came :D.


	3. First Year Part II

Chapter 3: First Year Part II

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><p>Dinner was mashed potatoes and roasted chicken. Harry could barely swallow a thing, his mind making up scenarios of what would happen in Riddle's office just an hour later. As such, he barely noticed when a third-year approached Severus, who was seated next to Harry.<p>

"Prince," started out the platinum-haired boy, and sneered when Harry looked up at his friend's name. "Potter."

"What do you want, Malfoy?" asked Severus, finally drawing his eyes away from where it had been resting on Lily Evans.

Malfoy noticed, a flash of disgust crossing his face before it was replaced with a neutral expression. "It's almost eight," he paused, then sent a haughty look toward Harry, "Professor Riddle will be expecting us soon."

His words stung and Harry's face fell. He knew he shouldn't be so disappointed that their lessons weren't going to be private; he should actually be ecstatic that the Dark Lord hadn't actually singled him out. But he couldn't help how he was feeling and he almost wanted to spite the Dark Lord by not showing up.

Severus shot a glare at Malfoy, misinterpreting Harry's fallen face. "Harry, it's not a big deal. You're _really_ talented in magic and the only reason you weren't invited was because you're a Potter."

The words took a minute to register and then Harry was shaking his head, oddly touched that Severus would go out of his comfort zone to try and make him feel better. "I was invited, Severus."

Malfoy scoffed, "Please, Potter, Professor Riddle probably doesn't even know who you are."

Harry ignored Lucius, instead talking directly to his friend. "I just thought they were going to be private lessons."

"You're a _Potter_," snarled Lucius, annoyed that Harry was ignoring him. "And even accomplished adults have trouble getting Professor Riddle to notice them. Why would he notice someone who doesn't even belong in Slytherin?"

Harry blinked, puzzled on why Lucius was being so hostile toward him. He was just about to respond when Severus rounded on Lucius, an angry expression on his usually dour face.

"Sod off, Malfoy. We can get to Professor Riddle's office on our own."

Malfoy scowled, but turned on his heel, angrily stalking back to his seat further down the Slytherin table.

"Sorry," said Severus, a grimace on his face as he turned back to his mashed potatoes. "That was Lucius Malfoy. Mum refused one of their invitations last year and now Malfoy is determined to get me to pay up for the slight by becoming his minion. It's rather annoying."

"Thanks for standing up for me," said Harry, and watched as Severus turned pink at his words.

"It wasn't for you, Potter. Malfoy's just a git," said Severus, even with his cheeks pink. "Now come on, we don't want to be late."

* * *

><p>Riddle's office was bigger than it seemed thanks to magic. The room was dimly lit and there was a fire roaring in the background. It painted a cosy picture, but the man standing in the middle differed from it. Tom Riddle cut a dominating presence, and his impressive, expensive robes ensured everyone's eyes stayed on him.<p>

His red eyes landed on Harry as soon as the two of them walked in, and a slow smile started to appear on his face. Harry made sure to ignore the Professor's attempt at making eye contact, still sore about the fact that the Dark Lord had misled him so spectacularly. There were other Slytherins in there, and Harry took his time studying each one. They were all young; Lucius was the eldest one being a third year.

Lucius stood up when they walked in, a scowl still on his handsome face. He took one glance at Professor Riddle and when Riddle didn't say anything about Harry Potter, he angrily opened his mouth, a look of disbelief on his face.

"Professor Riddle. I believe there is a Gryffindor here," Lucius sneered.

Harry didn't let the sting from Lucius' snub bother him; he was used to kids being petty and bullying was something that hardly penetrated his thick skin anymore. He was more interested in seeing how Riddle would respond to something that so undermined his authority and wondered if Riddle would defend him or not.

There was a long silence after Lucius' words, and finally Riddle spoke. "Are you talking about yourself, Mr. Malfoy?" he asked in a dangerous, low voice.

Malfoy flushed, shame coloring his face red before he gathered up his courage again. "That is a Potter! He shouldn't be welcome to your meetings, my Lord."

Riddle's eyes flashed with anger, "You are not allowed to call me that within these walls, Mr. Malfoy."

Malfoy stiffened, "I apologize, sir."

Riddle watched him for a minute longer, his red eyes intense as they stared at the Malfoy heir. "See to it that it doesn't happen again."

Malfoy hung his head in shame, but still had enough courage to keep going. "And Potter, sir?"

"What about young Mr. Potter?" asked Riddle, a hint of annoyance in his voice.

"He doesn't belong here!"

"Ah, so that's how it is," said Riddle, tilting his head with a small smile on his face. "Are you feeling threatened by a mere first year, Mr. Malfoy? How unbecoming."

"I -"

"You came here thinking you could get my attention," said Riddle, his smile growing wider as Malfoy quivered where he stood, only confirming Riddle's suspicions. Riddle paused, looking like he could go on and possibly destroy Malfoy's status and confidence, but for some reason didn't. His smile stayed, but his words became kinder. "No matter, Mr. Malfoy, if you are so worked up about it, I'll give you a chance to prove yourself."

Suddenly, red eyes were looking directly at him and Harry jumped at the intensity burning in his Intended's eyes. "Come here, Harry."

Every inch of his being didn't want to - he didn't even want to be _here_ in the first place - but Riddle's eyes promised punishment if he didn't obey, so Harry followed Riddle's instructions.

Riddle's smile only grew bigger. "I propose a duel. Loser forfeits the privilege of attending Tuesday's lessons."

Harry's eyes widened at the proclamation, turning a confused glance at his Professor. Riddle's smug smirk confirmed it; his Intended was definitely playing around with him! Riddle _knew_ Harry had no desire of being here, yet he was handing him the way out on a silver platter? The whole thing was fishy.

Malfoy also looked confused at the matter, but the confusion gave way to confidence. After all, no matter how talented Harry was, Malfoy was a third year and should therefore know a lot more spells than Harry.

"Sir," spoke out Severus, his eyes wide and his lower teeth worrying his lower lip, "Malfoy is a third year. Harry can't duel someone like that."

Riddle looked amused again, which seemed to be his default expression amongst the first years, "And how does Harry feel about the duel? Do you want to back out?"

Harry was startled again; he hadn't expected the Professor to actually give him a choice in the matter. But at Riddle's hard eyes, his heart sank. Riddle wasn't actually giving him a choice; he was still messing around with him. If he backed out, then Malfoy would think he was a coward and he would be bullied even more. And even if he accepted, he couldn't get out of the Tuesday lessons because he couldn't actually _lose _the duel. If he did, Malfoy would use him as a stepping stone for the rest of his school years. He stifled the urge to sigh and instead shook his head, signifying his consent to the duel.

"Perfect," said Riddle, and by the knowing glint on his eyes, Harry _knew_ that Riddle was _enjoying_ this. "However, it _would_ be unfair to let a third year face a first year without some sort of advantage." Riddle suddenly clapped, and both Malfoy's and Harry's wands were in his hands. "No wands."

"But sir," started Malfoy.

Riddle turned to look at Malfoy, a stern frown on his face, "Don't tell me you have another objection, Mr. Malfoy."

"You would have us fight without magic? Like...like muggles, sir?" asked Malfoy, aghast.

Riddle gave a derisive laugh, "Without magic, Mr. Malfoy? Have you never heard of wandless magic?"

"No right-minded wizard would ever -"

Riddle snapped, and the oxygen above his now outstretched palm combusted, forming a small fireball. The flames flickered loudly in the ongoing silence, casting long shadows onto Riddle's smirking face. Riddle closed his hand on the fire a second later, snuffing it out in one quick motion.

"I imagine this duel may cause trouble for you, Mr. Malfoy. Harry, here," he paused to reach out and pat Harry on the head like they were actually close, "has performed wandless apparition."

Harry jumped at the sudden contact, and when Riddle left his hand there, glared upward at the offending appendage. Riddle didn't seem to notice, his eyes trained on Malfoy.

"Still up for the challenge, Mr. Malfoy?"

Malfoy startled at the question, "Of course I am," he stammered out.

Riddle took two long blinks, his smirk growing, "Even when you cannot perform wandless magic? Please, Mr. Malfoy, you are being purposely obtuse."

"But I..."

"Sometimes it is better to back down when you know you are beat," said Riddle, not unkindly. "Abraxas, your father, had the same problem in his youth."

"You were close with my father, sir?"

"We were in the same year in Hogwarts. Has your father never mentioned me?"

Malfoy colored, lowering his head. "He told me to form my own opinion of you, sir."

Riddle laughed, startling Harry at the mirth contained in it. He never imagined that his Professor could actually show emotion so openly; he was used to the closed off Riddle that taught well, but not affectionately. The sound was intoxicating.

"Malfoy probably just thinks you're a bastard now," grumbled Harry under his breath, bringing Tom Riddle's red eyes back to him.

The smirk was still there as the Professor removed his hand from Harry's soft, brown looks, "Tsk tsk, children shouldn't use such crude language, Harry."

Harry scoffed, only helping to widen Riddle's smug smirk. Riddle deposited one last fond pat on Harry's head before clapping his hands and getting everyone's attention.

"That brings us to the reason why I brought you all here. As Mr. Malfoy has shown, wandless magic has been outdated for centuries now. Most wizards don't even remember they can do magic without a wand. But what is a wand but a simple channel for wizards to do magic? As I have shown earlier, an experienced wizard can channel their magic through anything. I simply use my hand as a conduit for my magic, and by calling my magic, I can ignite the air."

Riddle paused when a first year Slytherin raised her hand. He nodded, giving her permission to speak. "But sir, aren't we stronger _with_ a wand?"

Riddle's smile was derisive, "Are you stronger with something limiting you so greatly? Many wizards cannot perform without their wands and as such, when it is taken away, you are nothing _but_ a Muggle. If you cannot access your magic, you might as well not be a wizard."

"But the wand is supposed to react better with our core, sir? It's supposed to make magic easier."

"Easier, maybe, but is it necessarily better? I may have to concentrate a bit more to get the same spell working, but the power and magic exerted is exactly the same. Wand movements and incantations are simply training tools. A wizard without a wand is able to cast the same spell with the same power as one with a wand. To put it in easier to understand terms, what is one way to win a duel?"

"To summon the opponent's wand," answered Malfoy.

Tom nodded, "And without a wand, your opponent is harmless. This is why the Ministry likes to promote the usage of wands. To punish criminals, they snap their wands in half. But are we so out of tune with our own magic that we cannot perform without something that was made by humans? Magic has been around for centuries, all of it starting with Merlin. Merlin was well-known for his ease of performing magic without a conduit other than his body. This is not impossible in this time and day."

"Then sir," spoke the girl, her eyes full of curiosity and interest as she leaned forward, "are you going to teach us to perform magic without a wand?"

Riddle's smile was kind, almost as if he extremely enjoyed passing on this type of knowledge. Harry was entranced at the sight, and was reminded exactly of why the books had so much praise for Tom Riddle as a teacher. When he was teaching something he _wanted_ to teach and not the first year curriculum for Defense against the Dark Arts, he was passionate and it was utterly beautiful.

"Yes, I will. It will be hard work, but I handpicked you students especially because you all have an affinity for wandless magic. You must start at a young age, or else you would have leaned too heavily on a wand as a crutch. Wand-using magic is a hard habit to break."

"Why didn't you start teaching us earlier then, sir?" asked Malfoy.

"Because," said Riddle, pausing to aim an amused look at Harry, "I have never had a student so proficient in wandless magic before. Harry Potter will be helping me teach."

Harry glared daggers at the Professor, only causing Riddle to raise his eyebrow at his actions.

"Our first lesson would be the light gathering spell," said Riddle. "Most of you should have learned it by now. The incantation is _Lumos_ and it is an easy spell to use with or without a wand. You simply concentrate your magic at the tip of your finger, like so," Riddle held up his finger, showing the bright light that shone from the tip of it. "Harry has demonstrated his usage of the spell to me a while back, and he will be able to assist if you need help."

By the end of the lesson, only Harry and Severus were able to produce the wandless _lumos_. Malfoy had been using his wand for too long and could barely summon up a flicker of light. His animosity toward Harry only hindered his progress.

Harry was left baffled at the end of the session, and was towed away by Severus before he could approach the Dark Lord demanding answers.

* * *

><p>"Why?"<p>

Riddle sighed, drawing his wand and casting two spells in quick successions. "Privacy spells," explained Riddle at Harry's questioning look, and he gestured toward the seat in front of him. "Sit, Harry."

Harry obeyed, sitting himself in the green armchair his Intended had gestured at. He had come demanding answers during Riddle's office hours because Riddle had seemed content on not explaining himself. Classes had progressed naturally and it was fast approaching Tuesday again. Harry was not fancying another confusing lesson and had worked up his courage to ask.

There was a long pause, in which Riddle spent it searching Harry's face. "Why teach wandless magic? I am sure I explained it during Tuesday's lesson unless you weren't paying attention?"

"No, I was," colored Harry, biting his lip and hating the way Riddle seemed to be able to dance around him with his words. "I mean why choose me?"

"Hm," said Riddle, a smile on his lips, "I guess I can tell you since you already know most of it. Twins are something special, aren't they?"

"James? If you do something to James, you bastard, then I'll -"

He was cut off by a laugh filled with mirth, and Harry blinked at the sound. "I don't understand how you twins are so close considering the circumstances."

"What do you mean?" asked Harry, warily.

"You must know that Dumbledore is the leader of the Light. He has already staked a claim on your twin to be his heir."

"He has? I didn't - James never told me."

"James doesn't know," explained Riddle. "But it's rumored to be true. Dumbledore has already given special lessons to your twin. I was curious, I admit, when the scandal came out in the papers. After hearing of Dumbledore's stake on James Potter, I brushed it off as you having little to no magical power. But after meeting you, I had to wonder, why _would _they pass up someone who is so obviously stronger than James Potter? And then, I thought, it was time I chose an heir. And who better than the twin they refused? Not only are you magically proficient, but I have the added benefit of the heir of the Light being unable to kill you. It is wonderfully evil, isn't it?"

"What?!" yelped Harry. "No," he said firmly, shaking his head, "I absolutely refuse to be part of your scheme to get back at Dumbledore."

"Oh, Harry," said Riddle, his eyes gleaming with amusement. "It was already sealed in place when you were Sorted into Slytherin. Don't you wonder why you have been given such an easy time in Slytherin despite being a Potter? If Dumbledore is trying to make James Potter a Prince of Gryffindor, then I _will_ make you into the Prince of Slytherin."

"I am _not_ Dark! And whatever you say or do, I will _never_ be your Heir!" Harry angrily stood from his seat, glaring at his Intended. He couldn't believe the _nerve_ of Riddle, even knowing that the man was the Dark Lord. To play around with someone else's fate like that and not even give that person a choice?

He was the Dark Lord's pawn, and he _hated _it. He wanted to punch the smug smirk off Riddle's face, and he wanted to go back in time so he was never ever sorted into Slytherin. If only he had been given Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff, then he would have never ensnared the Dark Lord's attention so completely.

"Say what you want," said the Dark Lord, a tad smugly, "but I have already made you mine."

Harry colored at the choice of words, before turning to leave the room in a huff. His Intended was _really_ a bastard who only cared about himself.

"And Harry? I'll see you on Tuesday at eight or I _will_ assign you detentions for the rest of the school year."

Harry shot one last hateful glare at Riddle before storming out of the office and slamming the door.

* * *

><p>AN: I'm really sorry guys. I really thought I could get this chapter up to par but I've been having kind of a really busy week :\. I reread this over and over and I'm still not sure if I should add in the last part? I'm sorry if this chapter is disappointing, I just didn't have time to fix it and I didn't want to go back on my promise on having something uploaded on Friday. Ahh :( Please let me know what you guys think! Since I possibly have a better week coming up, I'm thinking about coming back and fixing this one / rewriting it QQ. Let me know! And thank you ALL for all the lovely feedback because they make me giddy and happy and wonderfully inspired to write even more!

Also, because Tom is wonderfully evil, what he means is that Dumbledore would hesitate to kill Harry because like you know, Dumbledore has the tendency to want to save kids (case in point: Draco Malfoy in the books) and Tom won't hesitate to kill James xD. And James would never want to kill Harry sooo... and plus, Riddle just doesn't want to be one-upped by Dumbledore so if Dumbledore has an heir, he's gonna get one too xD.


	4. First Year III

Chapter 4: First Year Part III

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><p>"Harry," said James in a soft voice, wiggling his small hands until they were entangled in Harry's silky locks. "What happened, Harry?"<p>

Harry made a noise in response, but kept his head buried down in James' sheets.

James sighed, "Harry, I can't help if you won't tell me what's wrong."

"Can I stay here tonight?"

"Course," James replied immediately, "you know you're always welcome here."

The words made him smile into the sheets and then he was grinning up at his younger twin. James looked exasperated, but his expression was fond, and the sight made Harry happy. They had only gotten closer as their first year progressed. James had kept to his promise of sticking by his side even as a Gryffindor and Harry was sure that Sirius and Severus hated them both for making them spend so much time together. It had started in Potions, when James had pulled Harry up from his seat by Severus and into the seat next to him, his trademark cheeky grin on his face as he proclaimed that brothers should stick together. Harry had laughed, oddly touched, even when he knew James secretly wanted to be his Potions partner for his expertise.

Sneaking into the Gryffindor's tower came a month later. The other Gryffindors weren't too keen on spending time with Slytherins, but what they didn't know wouldn't hurt them. It was easy for the two of them to look like each other; with James' glasses hiding his green irises and the Gryffindor mark on his robes, no one really noticed the difference. And Harry knew enough privacy spells to keep the others from noticing if he really did decide to spend the night.

Harry leaned into his brother's soothing rubs, making a contented noise as his brother continued to stroke his hair. "You're the best, James."

"Course I am," said James, cheekily, but the smile slipped off his face a few seconds later. "What's the matter, Harry? I've never seen you so worked up."

Harry couldn't help stiffening and pouted when his brother withdrew his hands. "It's stupid, really."

"It's not stupid if it's got you all worked up like this," responded James, and he crossed his arms in front of him to look more stern.

"It's just...do you ever think Magic messed up?"

There was a loud, suffering sigh, "Should've known it'll be all about Professor Riddle again."

Harry sat up straighter, an offended look crossing his features. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"It's all you talk about!" countered James. "We'll be at dinner and you'll open up with 'You'll never believe what that bastard said!' and like, honestly, Harry, I think it's getting pretty difficult to convince Sirius that you _don't_ have a crush on the man."

Harry could feel the hot flush on his face and he buried his face into his hands. "Is that - do people think I?"

James snorted, "_Everyone_ has a crush on the Professor, Harry. You're just special because he's _yours_."

"He's not _mine_," Harry immediately said, and couldn't help feeling offended when his twin just rolled his eyes.

"Right, and what do the words on your heart say?"

"I don't know how you're so easygoing about it," said Harry, sullenly. "He's the Dark Lord! Why am I the only one panicking about this?"

"It's not like I'm forgetting who he is, Harry. But he's your Intended. And Magic doesn't mess up. There must be a reason for you two to be together and I'm going for the route of you changing him to be a better person rather than you turning Dark, too."

"You're so bloody optimistic," grumbled Harry.

"Hey, one of us has to be an eleven-year-old, and it's definitely not going to be you, Mr. I like to read books more than I like moving."

Harry scowled and James' expression softened.

"We're too young to be worrying about this, Harry! We're supposed to be having fun learning new things and looking for love. You should be happy that you already know who Magic Intended you for."

"But -"

"No buts!" said James, sternly. "Love is a beautiful thing and you should just be happy!"

"You're ridiculous," Harry said, but James shrugged off his insult with a cheery smile.

Harry knew he should confront his brother about the lessons with Dumbledore. It had been the reason he had come up to the Gryffindor Tower in the first place. But James was just so cheerful and he was _right_. They were only eleven and even _if_ his Intended and Dumbledore were using them as political pawns, he didn't have it in his heart to make his brother worry.

He buried his misgivings about Dark and Light, and settled in for the night.

* * *

><p>It was easier said than done. The stark differences between the two were all too easy to see in even the most innocuous of things. The animosity between Gryffindor and Slytherin were an easy juxtaposition to the rivalry between Dumbledore and Riddle, and it presented itself to Harry each and every day. Harry wondered if his classmates ever thought about why exactly they were supposed to hate each other and in the end, couldn't stop thinking about what actually <em>were<em> their differences.

Harry had realized all too soon that he honestly did not have much of an idea of what exactly their differences were. The books that he had been able to buy from Flourish and Blott's weren't exactly forthcoming on their differences, and he lamented the fact that he hadn't thought to purchase a book on political parties before coming to Hogwarts. And he was much too wary of going to the library to borrow one; for all he knew, the records could get back to his parents and then he would have to be subjected to another episode of finding out that his parents really did think he was going to go Dark.

The whole thing was confusing, and asking Severus hadn't helped matters much. Severus had simply said, "Those who are Light are idiots. If you don't want to be an idiot, then be Dark."

And had refused to say much else on the matter.

It was bloody frustrating, and there was no way Harry was going to ask Lucius for a more thorough explanation.

After sitting through another three tortuous sessions of teaching wandless magic to the Slytherins Riddle had picked out, Harry couldn't help deciding to turn to Riddle for help. After all, his Intended was a Professor and the topic was definitely one the Professor would feel passionate about.

"Is there a reason you're still here, Harry?" asked Riddle.

"Uh," he stammered out, his nervousness only made worse when the Professor raised a single elegant eyebrow. He didn't know if he was ever going to get used to being alone in his Intended's presence and even when he was feeling confident, he couldn't help getting tangled up in his own words.

Riddle gave a small chuckle, "If you don't say it, I'll read it from your mind."

Harry scowled, "That's still illegal, you know."

Riddle gave a little shrug, as if he couldn't be bothered by such small details. "Dark Lord, remember? And you _are_ my heir."

"I didn't agree to that," he grumbled.

"You turned up for lessons and you've been a proper good boy for the past month. So I'll indulge you, Harry. Ask away."

"What's the difference between Dark and Light?" he blurted out before he could lose his nerve.

There was a beat of silence, and then another, and suddenly the Dark Lord was laughing. "You're my heir and you don't even know that? Merlin, what have your parents been teaching you?"

Harry flushed in embarrassment, and he looked down at this clenched hands in shame. "They haven't been teaching me much about anything, honestly," he settled for responding.

The laughter was cut off as abruptly as it came, and when Harry looked up, the Professor looked irritated. "The nerve of them," he bit out, and Riddle cut himself off with a frustrated sigh. "They never do seem to learn, really."

"Professor?"

"It's better if you learn from me," said the Professor, thoughtfully, his red eyes dancing in delight. "Books could never describe what the world thinks being Dark entails and I think you'll be far more interested with a demonstration. Detention, Potter, Saturday in the afternoon."

Harry rolled his eyes, "You don't have to give me detention to make me go somewhere."

"Tsk tsk, Harry, use your mind and think on why I am doing so."

"To make my life miserable?" he responded immediately, and was rewarded with an even more irritated Dark Lord.

"Dumbledore is a meddling old man and I prefer him not to learn of my interest in you until it's too late. Stop being such a brat, Harry. I'm doing you a favor."

Harry blinked, cutting off the cheeky retort he had been planning on using. His Intended was doing him a favor, and there was no reason for him to anger him. Still, an afternoon with just him and the Dark Lord seemed to be just asking for trouble...

"Can my brother come? I mean, he doesn't know much about Dark and Light either and maybe you can convince him, too?"

Riddle looked amused, "Just him. I am not teaching a whole class of your friends, Harry."

Harry looked down, a pleased flush crossing his cheeks. "Thanks," he murmured and was rewarded with a soft chuckle from his Intended.

Now all he had to do was convince James...

"I don't know how you get me to agree to these things," sighed James, wrapped up in his warmest cloak and bundled up in his red and gold scarf with matching mittens and earmuffs. "If we die, I'm coming back to haunt you."

"But if I'm dead too, how can you haunt me?" puzzled out Harry, who was similarly dressed to younger twin. They were out on the grounds, heading toward the meeting point Professor Riddle had set.

James pressed on as if he hadn't heard Harry, "I'm the _best_ twin ever to agree to this. You owe me a million chocolate frogs. I mean, we're going off to meet the Dark Lord _alone_ to understand what it means to be Dark and Light and our parents will _kill_ us if they ever find out about this! Not to mention if the Dark Lord decides to kill us, our bodies would never be found! Why do I ever listen to your crazy schemes."

"You're the _best _twin ever, James," Harry dutifully parroted.

"Bloody right I am," said James, pressing his arms closer to his sides to keep himself warm. "Now I'm going to stop talking because it is so bloody cold I can't even feel my fingers and bloody hell, how far are we going to have to walk?"

Despite James' complaints, it wasn't long before they reached the meeting point. Professor Riddle greeted them when they arrived, dressed as he normally was despite the freezing cold temperatures. He looked at them with amusement, before drawing his wand and casting two warming charms.

James let out a loud sigh of relief at the warming temperature before stiffening back up as he realized whose presence they were in.

"Better?" asked Tom Riddle, a small upturning of his lips conveying his amusement.

"Sir, yes, sir!" yelped out James, his face a picture of absolute fright. Harry couldn't help but feel overwhelming love for his twin at that very moment; James had come even though he was obviously quite terrified.

Riddle looked even more amused, sending a glance over at Harry. "Tell me, Harry, why is James so terrified of me when you hardly feel the same?"

Harry grinned at his Intended's question, "Because you're really not that scary, Professor, with all due respect."

Tom heaved a sigh. "Impudent brat."

James watched their interactions with a raised eyebrow, and then, even though he was still terrified, sent Harry a knowing look. Harry rolled his eyes at his twin, even though his cheeks were stained pink and he was finding it difficult to gather up enough courage to look at his Intended.

His Intended hardly seemed to notice the interactions between the two; he was bending down, with one hand in the soil beneath their feet. He straightened up as soon as Harry sent his twin a withering look, and then he was talking.

"The Light side tends to think magic is simple. Say the correct words, use the right wand movements, and your will is accomplished. But, Harry, we both know that isn't true. Wizards don't even need a wand to use magic."

His words trailed off, and suddenly the soil in his hand was being molded into a perfect circle. There was a rare smile gracing the Dark Lord's features and suddenly he was throwing the circle up into the air and it morphed shapes in quick succession. The sight was fascinating and when gravity finally pulled it back down, it collapsed back into its natural state.

"What spell would you say I used?"

"You didn't use one," answered Harry immediately, his tone reverent and his eyes wide in awe.

"Correct," murmured the Dark Lord. "Spells are used to sharpen our focus, but are ultimately unnecessary. The Light tends to think that our magic needs to be regulated. There are rules upon rules on what kind of spells we can use and which ones are illegal."

"But there _are_ bad spells," interrupted James boldly and promptly cowered under Riddle's stare. He straightened up a few moments later, his Gryffindor nature giving him courage. "The Unforgiveables, sir."

"Ah, but that is where you are wrong, young Potter," said Riddle, with a small upturned quirk to his thin lips. "There is no magic that is unforgiveable."

"But the Killing curse, sir," said James.

"There are many ways to die, Mr. Potter. The Killing Curse is just one method. But the nature of our spells is not what sets us apart from the Light. It is our belief system. As the years have gone on, the Light has started to think themselves superior. That we wizards are the only sentient beings on the planet and thus, everyone else should bend to our will."

"You don't think that, sir?" blurted out Harry. He winced when the Dark Lord's gaze shifted over to him, and he didn't have the courage to meet his eyes. "It's just, they say you're the most arrogant of them all, sir."

"I can see why they would say that," said the Dark Lord, not unkindly. "My views are different from them, Harry, and I had the audacity to actually do something about that. And I can't say I object to being called arrogant. It is not too far from the truth to call me that."

"But sir," Harry started, but Riddle simply shook his head firmly.

"As you grow up, you will find words from your enemies that are unkind. It is not something you can avoid, and it is something you will have to learn to live with."

"But they say you're a killer!" He immediately knew he messed up, even without James' hiss of his name. He was just about to apologize when the Dark Lord spoke again, and this time, his words chilled him to the bone.

"And who says they are wrong?"

There was a long silence before James broke it. His voice was quivering and his brown eyes were blazing, "You're _wrong_, Professor. No matter what you say, there are things that are Unforgiveable, and killing someone is one of them." He spun on his heel and Harry jumped when he felt his twin's hot stare on him. "Let's go, Harry."

Harry stared mutely at his brother's outstretched hand before raising his eyes to stare at his Intended. Riddle met his stare head on, an amused upturning to his thin lips that didn't waver even as the silence stretched. His eyes held a challenge in them, almost as if the Dark Lord was daring him to take James' hand and retreat back to Hogwarts.

And Harry knew he should leave and be as outraged as his brother, but there was something to the charged air around them that was stalling him from taking his brother's hand.

As stupid as it was, he didn't _want_ to disappoint the Dark Lord.

"Harry," came his brother's imploring voice, and Harry steeled himself by taking one deep breath.

"Go, James," he said. "I'll catch up with you tonight, okay?"

His twin's brown eyes widened and there was a stubborn tilt to his frown a second later, "No."

"James," he said, and the way he said it made his twin pause in his rant. "You _know_ I have to. You _don't_."

"But he's a killer, Harry."

"You know that doesn't matter to me as much as it does to you. We may be twins, James, but we're _not_ the same."

James flinched away from his touch as if he was burned, his brown eyes going wide with shock. "You can't mean that, Harry. You can't mean killing is okay; you were raised better than that!"

"Raised? I was never _raised_," he couldn't help spitting out, and he immediately regretted his words when he saw his twin's expression fall.

"Fine," said James, his tone cold. "You stay here with the cold-blooded killer if you want, I'm going back and I don't bloody care what happens to you."

And he was off, his black cloak flapping in the frigid air as he stomped his way back up to Hogwarts.

Harry clenched his fist tighter, his nails digging into his palm painfully and keeping him from shedding tears. He knew James couldn't possibly mean his words, that James _would_ care if the Dark Lord offed him right now. And he knew that if the Dark Lord really did decide to kill him that James would hardly offer any type of help against a fully trained wizard.

But it hurt. James had never looked at him with such unbridled hatred before, and it had shocked him to his very core. He regretted staying immediately; he wanted to run after his twin, but knew that in this state, James would refuse to talk to him.

"Harry."

Harry jumped; in his inner turmoil, he had forgotten that Riddle was still there. "Professor," he offered up weakly.

"Do you still want to continue the lesson?"

Harry met Riddle's eyes and found not an ounce of sympathy in them. He let out a soft sigh under his breath, wondering just what he did in his past life to be given Tom Riddle's soul mark. "Yes, Professor," he mumbled out.

"Good, it is comforting to know that you are not as close-minded as your twin."

"He's not -" he immediately started, and cut himself off when he realized that James really was. "It's not weird to freak out when you find out your Professor is a killer, sir."

"We're leading up to war, Harry. As one of the leaders, it should not be surprising that I have killed before. And make no mistake, Harry, as my heir, you _will_ kill."

"No," Harry responded immediately. "I will _never_ kill. Even if you wanted me to. And war? Against who, sir?"

"The Light, of course," said the Dark Lord, and Harry bristled at the tone of amusement coating his tone.

"You're looking forward to it," he accused, lowly.

"The Dark have been oppressed for a very long time, Harry. Don't you find it strange the amount of Dark Lords that have been popping up in past history? There is a purpose to this, Harry, and while you are too young now for me to tell you the truth, know now that the Light are not the good guys."

"So the Dark is?" Harry can't help spitting out. "Forgive me, sir, but that is hard to believe. You seem amused at the concept of war and you don't even hesitate when you admit to killing."

"Oh, dear Harry, I am not _amused_, I am joyous. Our time has come, and whether you like it or not, you are on the winning side and I am going to make quite good use of you."

"I can go to Dumbledore," he countered and was shocked when his Intended actually threw his head back and laughed. The sounds of rich laughter continued for a long few seconds and he shifted awkwardly when it seemed it wasn't going to die down anytime soon.

"He has no need of you, Harry, he has your twin. And for what I have planned for you, not even Dumbledore can save you."

The words chilled him, and he abruptly took two steps back from the intensity of Riddle's red eyes. "You can't just -"

There was a shark of a smile on the chiseled face of his Intended.

They stood there, locked in place before Harry spun on his heel. He knew he was being childish but he couldn't -

Laughter followed him up the steps to Hogwarts.

* * *

><p>The rest of the year was dismal. Riddle hardly cared that he had fled the scene and had instead treated him as he always did during their weekly meetings. James, on the other hand...<p>

James hadn't spoken to him after the fateful lesson. Despite Harry's pleas and frequent attempts to sneak into the Gryffindor Tower, James wanted nothing more to do with him. It was a horrible month before he gave up, filled with jeering laughter from the other Gryffindors as he tried his best to win his brother back to his side. It wasn't hard to see that the Gryffindors were happy that James would finally stop hanging out with a Snake, even if the Snake was his twin brother. The Syltherins weren't much better though.

Severus was overjoyed. He had been sick of hanging out with James, and worse, Sirius, and had a difficult time masking his joy when he was trying his best to comfort Harry. There was multiple hidden insults in his comforting words, things like "Hey, now we can actually do decent in Potions since you can be _my_ partner," and "At least we don't have to put up with the Gryffindor's lack of table manners," and although the words stung, Harry's fond exasperation at Severus took up the brunt of the pain.

Lucius grudgingly became one of his best friends. Harry never thought he could forgive the older blonde for his words during the first weekly meeting, but it changed one day. After breakfast, Malfoy had approached him with a sour expression, begging for help with wandless spells. Harry had tried his best to reign in his utter distaste for the boy, and in the end, after Malfoy had finally gotten a light to shine from the tip of his finger, he had turned to Harry and said "You're alright, Potter." And then with the gap of his twin brother from his life, Harry found himself becoming quite close to the haughty rich boy.

As the year progressed, Harry found himself enjoying the wandless lessons more and more. As people started to catch up, Harry became less of a teaching assistant and more like a student. And Riddle was a bloody brilliant teacher. Harry learned a lot, and sometimes, Riddle would hold private lessons for him, teaching him politics and more advanced spells than the ones intended for first years. One of the best parts about being forced into the position of Riddle's heir was the amount of books he was given to read. Riddle never had a shortage of books and as such, Harry never found himself without a book that he had been ordered to read.

Harry didn't mind though. He loved reading and he absolutely lived for learning. He was put on a strict schedule by the Dark Lord that was really only interspersed by his budding friendships with Prince and Malfoy. As such, he never even had time to ponder on his deteriorating relationship with his twin until they were standing face to face on the train platform.

James' face was sour and Harry's heart twisted as he realized he hadn't really spared a thought to his younger twin during the school year.

"James," he started, and was startled when James' eyes narrowed in anger.

"Coming home for the summer, then? You _missed_ Christmas."

Harry didn't have the heart to tell his twin that he didn't _miss_ Christmas; their parents had owled him a week before asking him not to come home. Of course, they still gave him the monthly allowance and there was a book on Light politics as his present, but the intention was still clear even if it was veiled lightly with fluffy words and subtle suggestions. He was sure he could have fought them on their 'order', and a few weeks ago, when James and him were still as thick of thieves, he would have, but...James was still not even looking at him and James would have never fought for him.

"Of course, you can't stay with your _precious_ Intended during the summer."

"James," he frowned, "you're being ridiculous."

"I'm not!" spat out James, his tone acerbic. "Your Intended is a _killer_ and you're...you're okay with it! He took someone's _life_, Harry."

"What happened to 'Love is a beautiful thing and I should just be happy that I've already found my Intended?' You told me that, James!"

"Well that was before I found out that your Intended is someone no one should be with!"

"You can't just take back your words like that, Jamie," his childhood nickname slipping out in a lapse of judgment.

"Don't you dare call me that, Harry. I _fought_ for you. And now you're Dark just like him and I can't even look at you."

And before Harry could say a thing, their parents were there and they were sweeping James up into tight embrace. Mother was whispering words of 'I miss you,' and 'You've grown up so tall,' and Harry spent those loving moments staring at his shoes.

It had been hard to accept, but his time at Hogwarts - with Severus and Malfoy and god forbid, Riddle - had taught him that his parents didn't love him and he was well on the path of becoming Dark.

* * *

><p>AN: I am so sorry, the quarter caught up with me and this is blatant advertising but you guys should all look up Larry Stylinson because it caught me up for six weeks and wouldn't let me go, but I'm back and I've already started writing the next chapter and hopefully we can get back on schedule. I think I was having such a writer's block because of the age difference, so next chapter will be skipping to 4th year and some exciting developments are underway.

Hope you guys enjoyed and please review because I love hearing everyone's thoughts! And thank you for such overwhelming wonderfulness of a response 3 it makes my heart fuzzy and warm.


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